


Pestilence of War

by boopboopbeedoop



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst, Drabble, Enemies to friends to ?????? to enemies, M/M, Sensory memories, Spoilers for Silver Snow route
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2019-11-11
Packaged: 2021-01-28 21:18:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21398809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boopboopbeedoop/pseuds/boopboopbeedoop
Summary: All of Ferdinand’s strongest memories are associated with his senses. In Enbarr, all of those memories are challenged.
Relationships: Ferdinand von Aegir/Hubert von Vestra
Comments: 1
Kudos: 21





	Pestilence of War

When Ferdinand was in Enbarr, he was used to seeing a bustling, lively city, full of personality and vitality. The smells of food wafting from the local inns and restaurants would lead citizens and tourists alike to welcoming hosts, and the sounds of music and shouting from street performers and vendors were always turning heads every which way. It was truly a feast for the senses, and the city could sate any appetite.

On this day, however, Enbarr was as Ferdinand had never seen it. The sounds of song were replaced by the clashing of blades and shouting - both of commanders leading their subordinates and soldiers receiving deadly blows. The memory of calm steps and dances were trampled by the sounds of armor and hooves on cobblestone. Gone were cheerful, smiling faces of passers-by, replaced by soldiers in helmets that shielded their undoubtedly pained, terrified expressions.

But the thing that he noticed the most was the smell in the air. No longer did one breathe in the nostalgic scent of Enbarr's delicacies and specialties; no, war had masked that smell with the acrid, putrid stench of blood and rot. It was a smell Ferdinand had grown used to - or, perhaps "desensitized" was a more appropriate word - but here, in the city he knew, his lungs burned with each breath he took. Since defecting from the empire and siding with the church, he had experienced much - seeing many of his former classmates, some of whom left their own houses from the Kingdom and Alliance to fight the empire; the death of his father and the collapse of his territory; reminisicing with his professors on school days gone by. He never knew it at the time, but Ferdinand had truly sown seeds of friendship among everyone at Garreg Mach, and he couldn't help but feel a sense of ease when he had discovered just how much they had bloomed in his absence. But there was one person in particular that had been missing; a seed that had been growing in particularly difficult soil, but one that Ferdinand had managed to get to take root after much effort (and many squabbles).

And now, that person was standing in front of Ferdinand, guarding the Imperial Castle's walls, staring him down with deadly intent.

"Ferdinand," Hubert spoke, voice dripping with venom. "Running into you in the capital like this - I have to say, it's almost sentimental."

The weight in Ferdinand's chest seemed to drag him lower and lower with every word. "Hubert. She must leave." He hadn't joined the church out of nowhere - he knew what the consequences of Edelgard's war would bring, and he couldn't help the sting of disappointment when he had heard that Hubert had stayed by her side.

He was ripped out of his contemplation by a low chuckle from Hubert. Somehow, despite all the cacophony of war, the sound of the older man's voice tore right through to Ferdinand. 

"Do you really think you can make her?"

Ferdinand's grip on his lance tightened. They both certainly knew he would never be able to make Edelgard do anything. The unspoken reality of what the church's army had truly set out to do hung between the two of them like a miasma, as if they were looking at heavily distorted versions of one another. 

"It does not matter what I think," Ferdinand replied, "those are my orders."

For many years, he associated Hubert with the smell of coffee. Whenever he would stop by Hubert's quarters to snap at him about something, typically a group task or an order from Edelgard, he would always be greeted with the earthy, energizing scent. Whether it was from the hourglass-shaped pourover container on his desk, or from the scent of freshly-ground beans from his hand grinder, Hubert always seemed to have the drink on hand. It soon intermingled with the smell of parchment and old books as Ferdinand began spending more and more time there, first discussing potential battle strategies before conversations melted into talking about their ambitions, their futures, their interests. 

As he surged forward, his mind flashed briefly to the item that had been sitting on his desk since before this whole sordid war began - a bag of coffee beans, picked especially for Hubert, to be given to him on the night they were to reunite for the Millennium Festival. He remembered finding the merchant who he was told sold the finest beans in all of Adrestia, and when he inhaled the scent of that particular roast, he was immediately taken back to the first time he and Hubert had sat down and had a truly amicable conversation over a freshly-brewed cup of coffee - even though Ferdinand had wrinkled his nose at the bitter flavor, he remembered it as an extremely pleasant evening, and a turning point in their friendship.

As quickly as the memory rushed in, it was gone, and the only sound Ferdinand heard as he pulled his lance from Hubert's chest was the sound of the man crumpling to the ground. His dark hair covered his eyes as the color drained from his already-pallid face. As the sanguine stain spread across his white dress shirt and spread across the ground, the only smell Ferdinand could detect was the coppery, pungent scent of blood. In mere seconds, the memory of him and Hubert waxing philosophical into the late hours of the evening had evaporated, replaced by Hubert's one visible golden eye boring into him with a resigned shock, as if he had predicted how the whole thing would end. As Ferdinand finally took a deep breath, his stomach churned with nausea and guilt, acid rising quickly into his throat. He thought he might vomit, but he managed to keep his composure long enough to take one more look at the man he once took solace in talking to, before stepping over him to declare the castle gate had been seized.

**Author's Note:**

> so uh ive never really written angst before........90% of what i write is filth......but i gotta say this was fun to do!


End file.
